Prodigal
by Probably Brilliant
Summary: A bit of a twist on "The prodigal daughter returns." Deals with some tricky topics so that's why it's rated T. Enjoy


Prodigal

It was _late. _It was incredibly late. But I found myself stumbling towards the yellow light of his office. I could hear the soft finger picking of an acoustic guitar being manipulated by a master. I think my heart actually yearned to get there faster. As I rounded the corner, the pain in my abdomen exploded, and I let out a small yelp. He turned in my direction, squinting. I pushed the door to his office open.

"The prodigal daughter returns." I joked, arms open wide. I'm actually positive he caught the wincing in pain.

"Couldn't stay away?" He deadpanned. I was standing in front of him, beaten, and he was being him.

"Nice sofas" I replied confidently.

"They are. Have a seat." I did as I was told, and he put the guitar down. I had worked for House a long time, but he seemed tired. It wasn't in a way that he needed sleep. He looked like he had too much living. He gripped his leg as he crossed the room to join me on the couch. "Have you come to take me up on my offer?" His offer to kill me. _Maybe_

"No. Where's your prescription pad?" I replied. He pulled it out of his back pocket. "If I write them, can you sign them?" He nodded, and sat back into the sofa, closing his eyes. I wrote out the proper antibiotics, among other drugs, and handed him the pad. I watched him read over the list, and reveled in the lack of emotion. Any emotion from even _House_ might kill me right now. He signed them all, and added some of his own maybe.

"You'll need an exam, a kit, and a shower." He mumbled as he handed me the papers. "I'll do the exam and the kit. The shower's on you though." He was incredible at reading people, so I was positive the flash of fear in my eyes didn't go unnoticed. "Or, I can find you a female nurse to do it, and I'll stand outside. It has to happen either way, Thirteen." Damn nickname.

"Would you?" I whispered, my head down.

"Yeah, let's go." He stood, reaching for his cane. I didn't move. He actually made it all the way to the door before turning to look at me. "What?"

"I-I don't want anyone to see me." The shame that filled me threatened to pour over in the form of tears.

"Oh, okay." He replied, pulling the blinds, and opening the office door. "I'll be right back." And he was. House returned no more than five minutes later with the appropriate things from the supply room.

"So we're just going to do this right here?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Yeah. Lay back. This isn't fun." He replied. He was right. The exam was the farthest thing in the world from fun. House was good though. Surprisingly, he was the right amounts of comforting and detached. He finished, and handed me his handkerchief. He would carry a handkerchief. I wiped my eyes and went to hand it back to him. "Nah, the one in my shirt is for you. The one in my back pocket is for me."

"Now what?"

"Now you're going to go take a shower, and I'm going to grab you Wilson's spare gym clothes. I'm staying here tonight to work on a case. You can have the couch." He replied firmly. I did as I was told, and returned to the sofas within a half hour. He was sitting against them on the floor, staring at his white board.

"Why are you being so, well, not you?" He was being terribly out of character.

"Why are you here, instead of drowning this in Patron and a one night stand?" He replied.

"I've lost people, and I've grown up." I replied.

"Yeah, well I've just lost people." He mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Wilson. The only Oncologist I know to be killed by cancer."

"You're being nice to me because Wilson died?"

"I'm holding on to you. Because I know that when the sun rises in the morning, you're on your way back to Tibet, and I'm okay with that because you'll be happy. Cameron left, Chase quit, Cuddy left, Kutner's dead, Amber's dead, the Med student left, I let you go, and Wilson died. He actually died. So I'm just going to sit here with you, and let you yell, or cry, or beat the hell out of me. And then you can get some sleep." He replied.

"I'm sorry Wilson died." I said

"Me too, Thirteen. Me too."

"Come to Tibet with me?"

"I'm going to take a pass."

"Worth a shot."

"You want to talk about what happened." He prodded.

"Never"

"Okay"


End file.
